A year or two ago I drove my car to one of the half-dozen places I go and a spider on my windshield lasted all the way from curb to corner to intersection to highway to parking lot and later when I returned after doing one of the handful of things I do on any given day the spider was gone moved fore...

The mood: Titanic tickets burn against your chest,
and still you cannot help but sail.
Soon this land is going to sink as well.
The question is—who’s first?

in memory of Baron Wormser, February 4, 1948–October 7, 2025 The subject line of the email read “Bad news.” It was late September 2025, and Baron and I were scheduled to teach a weekend writing workshop together in early October. At first, I figured “bad news” meant a scheduling conflict. But the e...

You who say you are on the road:
There is no road, only
Your own footprints. Where you
Go is the only road, nothing else.

Into geology of exile, home implodes. / The ground, incorrigible. / Ether shifting in its vicissitudes of letting go. / Somewhere, the karst. / Out and frayed apart decants the silt from another era. / I cannot keep you safe.

after Hades (Supergiant Games)